Red Sky at Morning
by Dede42
Summary: When a young woman dies in her shower after seeing a Ghost Ship two nights before, the Winchesters go to investigate and cross paths with Bela. After two more people die after seeing the ship, the Winchesters reluctantly team up with Bela to find the one thing to stop the killings. Will they all be successful?
1. Chapter 1: AN UNPLEASANT REUNION

Supernatural: Red Sky at Morning

A/N: I'm back with a new story, folks! And not only do the Winchesters have to solve dry land drownings in this story, they will also have to deal with a certain con-artist, who Liz will meet this time. I have made a few minor changes, some of which were inspired by the animated _Supernatural_ series, and I do home you enjoy it. Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE: AN UNPLEASANT REUNION**

" _When he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: when he appointed the foundations of the earth_ _."_

 _Proverbs 8:29_

Plymouth, Massachusetts

The harbor…

It was a clear night and the sky was filled with stars; a young woman was jogging along the harbor's walkway, listening to her iPod. She stopped at a water fountain for a drink when she heard thunder, followed by a sudden gust of icy cold wind that made her shiver.

' _That's strange,'_ she thought, straightening up and looked out over the water, seeing something that was even stranger. "What the-?" she gaped at the thunderclouds that was suddenly forming and she gasped when she saw sliding past a ghostly old sailing ship. She removed her headphones and stared as it crossed into the harbor, and then it vanished. "No way…"

Unnerved by the sight, she put her headphones back in, still spooked, and jogged back the way she'd came earlier.

* * *

Two nights later…

The same young woman was taking a shower, unaware when a dark figure approached and placed his hand on the glass of the shower door, water forming around it and running down the glass; there was a squeaking noise, and she slid open the door to peer out.

"Hello? Aunt Gert? Mike?"

Deciding that it was nothing, she shut the door, unaware of a sole handprint fading from the surface of the glass; she let the hot water run over her body, and was just about to shut her eyes when a shadow moved past.

"What the-?" she began when she was attacked from behind!

Screaming, she pounded against the glass, struggling against whatever was holding her when murky water began filling the shower at a fast pace until it was above her head. After a few seconds, her muffled screams turned to a gurgling noise, and she stopped moving.

The dark figure released her so that she was floating in the water until it drained away so that she was left slumped against the glass, dead, with the shower still running with _absolutely_ no change whatsoever.

* * *

Three days later…

Gertrude Case, aunt of the victim, Sheila, sat in the living room of her home with her nephew, Mike, and three state officers, who were actually the Winchesters.

"But I don't understand," Gert told them, holding a framed picture of her late niece in her hands. "I already went over all this with the other detectives."

"We both did," Mike agreed.

"Right, yes," Dean confirmed. "But, see…we're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department – different departments." And both Gert and Mike seemed to accept that explanation, thanks to some mental nudging from Sam.

"So, Mrs. Case…" Sam began.

"Please. _Ms._ Case," Gert interrupted, eying Sam in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially the emotions he was sensing from her.

"Okay," Sam stammered. "Um, Ms. Case, um…you were the one who found your niece, correct?"

Gert nodded. "I came home, she was in the shower."

"Drowned?" Liz asked.

"So the coroner says," Gert responded, keeping her gaze on Sam. "Now, you tell me, _how_ can someone drown in the shower?"

"How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death?" Sam asked. "I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary? Or see anything strange?"

Gert frowned. "Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?" she asked suddenly.

"Alex?" the Winchesters repeated caught off guard by the question.

Mike frowned. " _Are_ you three working for that con artist?"

"Con artist?" Dean repeated and then laughed, shaking his head. "Oh no, absolutely _not_. We don't work with con artists at all."

Mike seemed to buy that. "Oh, that's good, 'cause that woman was around here asking similar questions about Sheila and something about her rubbed me the wrong way." And then winced when his aunt swatted his arm.

"Be nice, Mike," Gert scolded before returning her attention to the Winchesters…well to Sam that was. "Alex has been _such_ a comfort. But I'm sorry. I thought the case was solved."

Sam shook his head. "Well, no. No, not yet."

Gert nodded while Mike scowled. "I see."

"Um, why don't Mike and I talk in private?" Liz suggested, wanting to hear more about this Alex person.

"Good idea," Dean agreed and watched as they both left.

Sam cleared his throat. "So, anyways, we were talking about your niece."

"Well, yes," Gert admitted. "Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat."

"A boat?" Dean repeated.

"Yes," Gert confirmed. "One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship."

Sam shrugged. "Uh, Could be."

"You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," Gert requested and she traced a finger slowly along his hand, leaving Sam _very_ uncomfortable, and Dean did his best not to laugh. "Anything at all."

* * *

Out in the hallway, Mike and Liz faced each other while listening in on the interview in the living room.

"So, what were you saying about this Alex lady?" Liz asked, taking out a notebook and pen to take some notes.

Mike sighed. "Well, she came around the day after Shelia died, asking questions about what she might've seen before she died, did some communication thingy with this board thing – an Ouja board I think… _anyway_ , she supposedly made contact with Shelia's spirit, said something about her being at peace, and then declared the case solved."

"And you don't think your sister's case has been solved so easily?" Liz asked, already suspicious of _whom_ this Alex person might be. _'And if it_ is _who I think it is, then I'm gonna get some payback for the rabbit foot business.'_

"Absolutely not," Mike confirmed. "My sister was _murdered_ by someone who made it look like she'd drowned in a _shower_ , and I want proof that this person is in jail…at least."

Hearing Sam and Dean thanking Gert, she nodded. "Okay, we'll do what we can to find your sister's killer, Mr. Case."

"Thanks."

* * *

Soon the Winchesters were walking along the docks, where the water was crowded with pristine, moderately sized boats.

"What a crazy, old broad," Dean laughed, referring to their interview after comparing some notes.

"Why?" Sam asked. "Because she believes in ghosts?"

"Look at you," Dean teased. "Sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Bite me."

"Not if she bites you first," Dean teased back, wincing when Liz hit his arm, and he changed the subject. "So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?"

"Probably," Liz agreed, "according to Mike, this _Alex_ uses Ouja boards as a part of her scam."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe, Maybe not. Doesn't change our job, but we can have Garcia run a check on where the _one_ person that we know who uses Ouja boards and figure out where she currently is."

Both Dean and Liz agreed with that. "And what looked like a ghost ship, right?"

Sam nodded. "It's not the first one sighted around here, either."

"Really?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings."

"Wow," Liz said, surprised by the number.

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started," Dean realized.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"What's the lore?" Liz asked.

"Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world," Sam explained. "The _S.S. Violet_ , the _Griffin_ , the _Flying Dutchman_ – almost all of them was death omens."

Dean thought about that. "So, you see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"

Sam nodded. "Basically."

"Yikes," Liz muttered, cringing at the thought.

"What's the next step?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "We gotta I.D. the boat."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Dean remarked. "I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?"

Sam laughed sourly. "I checked that too, actually. Over 150."

"Wow," said Dean and Liz, surprised by the number of wrecked ships.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Crap," said Dean as they walked up a flight of stairs and headed toward an empty parking space; he looked around, confused. "This is where we parked the car, right?"

Both Sam and Liz looked around, confused. "I thought so."

"Where's my car?" Dean wondered, looking around for the missing Impala. "Where'd it go?"

"Did you feed the meter?" Sam asked exchanging a look with Liz as they checked the meter they'd been parked next to.

"Yes, I fed the meter," Dean snapped, beginning to panic. "Sam, Liz, _where's_ my car? Somebody _stole_ my car!"

"Calm down," Sam suggested.

"I _am_ calmed down!" Dean snarled. "Somebody _stole_ my ca-" and he started hyperventilating, alarming his siblings.

"Whoa!" Liz exclaimed, grabbing her twin when he began doubling over. "Dean. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."

Just then, a woman with dark blonde hair and was wearing a red dress suit, skirt, and red high heels sauntered up, prompting Dean and Sam to scowl while a wary expression crossed Liz's face. "The '67 Impala? Was that yours?"

"Bela," Sam growled.

"I'm sorry," Bela said, unapologetically. "I had that car towed."

"You what?!" Dean yelped. _'My baby!'_

Bela shrugged in a manner that set the Winchesters on edge. "Well, it was in a tow-away zone."

"No, it wasn't!" Liz protested. _'So_ this _is Bela…bitch.'_

Bela smirked. "It was when I finished with it."

"What the _hell_ are you even doing here?" Dean demanded angrily. _'She'd better not have_ harmed _my baby or I'll kill her myself!'_

"A little yachting," Bela answered flippantly.

"You're Alex," Sam realized. "You're working with that old lady."

Bela nodded. "Gert's a dear old friend."

"Yeah, right," Liz scoffed. "What's your angle?"

"There's no angle," Bela responded. "There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats."

Dean scoffed. "And let me guess, it's all a con."

"The comfort I provide them is _very_ real," Bela countered.

"How do you _sleep_ at night?" Liz demanded, disgusted.

"On silk sheets, rolling naked in money," Bela retorted. "Really, Elizabeth. I'd expect the attitude from your brothers, but you?"

"You _stole_ that rabbit's foot from me!" Liz snarled. "And I _almost_ died!"

"We all have to die at some point," Bela countered and then turned to Dean. "Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

"Drama queen? Why I oughta-" Liz began, but fumed when both Sam and Dean restrained her.

"You _do_ know what's going on around here," Dean pointed out, reining in his own temper. "This ghost-ship thing, it _is_ real."

"I'm aware," Bela confirmed and then scowled. "Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way."

"It isn't," said Sam.

" _She_ didn't know that," Bela snapped. "Now the old bag's nephew, Mike, stopped payment and they're demanding some _real_ answers."

The Winchesters took some grim pleasure in that. "They have a right to know what really happen to Shelia."

Bela scoffed. "Like that _really_ matters. Look…just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you…before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao." And she left while the Winchesters glared at her.

"Can I shoot her?" Dean asked.

"Not in public," said Sam sourly. "Let's go get the Impala back," he suggested and they headed off to rescue their car.

* * *

Later that same night, a middle-aged man was in a _very_ nice bathroom and was brushing his teeth when there was a faint sound, and he glanced behind him, almost certain that he saw something from the corner of his eye. "Hello?"

Deciding that he was imagining things, he turned back to the sink and finished attending to his teeth; he turned to leave…when he saw that the old-fashion bathtub was nearly filled with murky water. "What the-?"

It was then that the water started bubbling, he stared in confusion as the bubbling water began rising upward slowly until it'd grown to five feet, and then a tentacle shot out and wrapped it around his head!

The man tried to scream, but the water completely enclosed around his head, muffling all sound, and began filling his lungs as the tentacle dragged him toward the tub.

Seconds later, he slumped as he was pulled face first into the tub, his body twitching slightly as it rested half-in and half-out of the water that was now draining away; a dark figure stepped out of the shadows, stared at the body for a moment before fading away into nothingness.

* * *

The next morning, the police were going in and out of the house and roping off the area; the late victim's brother, Mr. Peter Warren, was standing outside with Bela, who was impersonating a reporter and was interviewing him…well she was pestering him actually.

"No," Peter answered, shaking his head. "Police said that he drowned, but I don't u-understand how…"

"I am _so_ sorry for your loss, Mr. Warren," said Bela unconvincingly. "Now, if you could just tell me one more time about the ship your brother saw."

At that moment, Dean, Liz, and Sam showed up, once again wearing suits and, after flashing their badges, approached them with the intent to get Bela to leave.

"Ma'am, I _think_ this man's been through quite enough," Dean told her curtly. "You should go."

"But I just have a few more questions," Bela protested.

"No, you don't," Sam told her coldly.

Bela scowled at them. "Thank you for your time," she told Peter before leaving.

"Sorry you had to deal with that, sir," Liz told Peter. "They're like _roaches_." And Bela shot them an angry look.

"So, we heard you say your brother saw a ship," Sam commented, gently nudging Peter's mind.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"Did he tell you what it looked like?" Dean asked, hoping to narrow down the possible ships.

"It was, uh…like the old yankee clippers," Peter described. "A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging. Angel figurehead on the bow."

"That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw," Sam remarked, exchanging a look with his siblings.

Peter shrugged. "My brother and I were night diving. I saw the ship, too." And the Winchesters exchanged a look behind the man's back.

Across the driveway, Bela was talking to one of the cops and pointed in the Winchesters' direction; Sam noticed this, sent out a mental command to delay the cop, and nudged both Dean and Liz, alerting them to the danger.

"All right. Well, we'll be in touch."

"Thank you."

* * *

A few hours later, the Winchesters were parked in a nearby grove of trees, and they were at the trunk, loading their shotguns with salt rounds…when _Bela_ just happen to show up like a bad penny.

"I see you got your car back," she commented.

"You _really_ want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?" Dean asked scathingly; thanks to Sam's Jedi ability, they'd managed to get the Impala back with _very_ little trouble.

"Now, now," Bela tsked. "Mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here?" she asked. "You have enough to I.D. the boat."

"That guy back there saw the ship," Sam said shortly.

Bela wasn't surprised, having eavesdropped on the whole thing. "Yeah? And?"

" _And_ he's going to die," Liz added, facing the woman, "so we have to save him."

Bela laughed. "How _sweet_."

"You think this is funny?" Dean asked, annoyed by her lack of empathy for others. _'Even that crazy cop had more empathy when he was goin' after Garcia.'_

"He's _cannon_ fodder," Bela sneered. "He can't be saved in time, and you know it."

Dean scowled and turned away. "Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so we're gonna try."

Bela laughed again. "Well, I'm _actually_ going to find the ship and put an _end_ to this. But you have fun."

"Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh?" Liz asked sarcastically. "What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"

"I don't know," Bela responded icily. "Your daddy give _you_ enough?" and they glared at each other. "Don't you _dare_ look down your nose at me, girlie. You're not better than I am."

"We _help_ people," Liz growled, her hands clenching into fists.

"Come on," Bela scoffed. "You _do_ this out of _vengeance_ and _obsession_. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas _I_ , on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I _do_ it. So, you tell me – which is healthier?"

Both Sam and Dean had to restrain Liz…again. "Bela, why don't you just leave? We've got work to do."

Bela smirked again. "Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far." And she left.

"I _so_ hate her right now," Liz growled. "Can I kill her?"

"Not in public."

* * *

That night, the Winchesters were staking out Peter's home, and they were also doing research to id the ship, plus trying to find a connection between the victims.

"Anything good?" Dean asked, stretching.

"No, not really," Sam admitted. "I mean…both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record, but I'm havin' Garcia do a deep search since all I found was a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?" Liz asked, bored.

"$112 million," Sam answered.

Dean whistled. "Nice life."

Both Sam and Liz agreed. "Yeah. Nice, clean, aboveboard. So why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?"

"Maybe nothing," Dean suggested.

"No," said Liz. "Sam's right, there's _always_ something."

Just then, Peter came out of the house, having spotted them. "Hey, you!"

Dean groaned. "I think we've been made." They got out of the car and went to the gate.

"What are you guys doing?!" Peter demanded angrily. "You watching me?"

"Sir, calm down," Sam requested, going Jedi. "Please."

"You guys aren't cops!" Peter snapped, not being affected…somehow. "Not dressed like that. Not – not in that crappy car."

"Whoa, hey," Dean protested. "No need to get nasty."

"We are cops, okay?" Liz told him. "We're undercover. We're here because we think you're in danger."

"From who?!" Peter snapped.

Sam tried his Jedi trick again. "If you just settle down, we'll talk about it."

Peter refused, something in his head had snapped. "No, you just stay away from me!" and he ran away.

"Wait!" Sam shouted.

"Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!" Dean shouted through the bars of the large gate. "Dammit!"

They watched helplessly as Peter got into his car and drove directly toward the gate-

-until the engine suddenly died and the car rolled to a stop.

"Oh, _that_ can't be good," Dean muttered, and both Sam and Liz agreed. Trouble was coming.

* * *

Peter turned the key repeatedly, cursing loudly as the engine refused to start. "Come on! Come _on_!"

Just then, a dark figure appeared in the passenger seat; he was dressed in old seaman's clothes that were covered by a navy coat, his long hair was dripping into his eyes, and he was deathly pale and wet.

" _What the_ -?!" Peter yelped and scrambled for the door, but it was locked, and he couldn't get it open. "Help! _Help!_ "

* * *

"Get the salt gun!" Sam ordered and he and Liz began climbing the gate while Dean ran back to the Impala; they landed on the other side and ran for the car.

* * *

Peter flattened himself against the door, terrified; the spirit faced him with a cold glare, wrapped a single hand around his throat and began squeezing while the car began filing up with murky water.

* * *

By the time Sam and Liz reached the car, it was _completely_ filled with water and Peter wasn't moving.

"Peter!" Liz shouted, tugging on the handle. "Peter!"

The spirit glared at them, releasing his grip and revealing that he was missing a hand when he raised the stump – and Dean arrived on the passenger side, armed with the salt gun. "Sam! Liz!"

His siblings ducked as Dean fired, destroying the window and the water began flowing out while the ghost disappeared; Sam yanked the door open, and both he and Liz were soaked with water as it poured out, and he reached inside to check on Peter.

After a few seconds of looking for a pulse, his shoulders slumped and he shook his head, and both Dean and Liz kicked the car in frustration. They'd failed… _again_.

* * *

A/N: And so ends the first chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. Also, the animated _Supernatural_ episodes are out on DVD and have been for a while, you'll enjoy them, especially if you like Japanese animation. R &R everyone!


	2. Chapter 2: RELUCTANT TEAMUP

Supernatural: Red Sky at Morning

A/N: And I'm back with the second chapter. I hope you all are enjoying my version of things, 'cause it's going to get _really_ interesting when it comes time to go to the party to find a certain item.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO: RELUCTANT TEAMUP**

" _She_ _is_ _loud and stubborn; her feet abide not in her house_ _."_

 _Proverbs 78:11_

After leaving a tip with the police, the Winchesters were driving through the night, and they were depressed. The radio was talking about the incoming weather until Dean turned it off.

"Do you wanna say it or should I?" he asked, pulling Sam and Liz out of their thoughts.

"What?" Sam asked, glancing from the window.

Dean sighed. "You can't save everybody, Sam. Even the Doctor can't save everyone, and on the rare chance he does, he's thrilled."

Sam could sense that Dean was trying to help and deal with his own guilt, and Liz was too. "I know that, Dean, but it doesn't really help."

"I concur," said Liz, pouting.

Dean didn't bother trying to lighten up the situation any further and focused on driving instead. God, they were _screwing up_ big on this one.

* * *

The next morning, the Winchesters were in the living room of an empty house that Penelope had found for them, due to a lack of cheap motels, and they were doing research on the ship, _determined_ to keep anyone else from dying.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and they exchanged bewildered looks. Who knew they were there?

"I'll call you back, Garcia," Dean said before closing his phone and pocketing it. He pulled out his gun, walked to the door, and peered through the eyepiece. "Aw crap," he grumbled and opened the door.

Bela walked in and raised her eyebrows at their living conditions. "Dear God, are you _actually_ squatting?"

"Well, not _everyone_ can live in fine hotels and _expensive_ apartments like _you_ ," Liz stated sourly.

"What do you want, Bela?" Sam asked while making a mental note to find and bury _all_ of her Ouja boards, suspecting that's what she'd used to find them in the first place.

"I'm just checking to see how things went last night," Bela answered, noting their various reactions, which gave her the answer. "That well, huh?"

"If you say 'I told you so', I _swear_ to God I'll start swinging," Dean warned her as he walked past.

Bela sighed. "Look, I think the four of us should have a heart to heart."

"That's assuming that you have a heart," Liz muttered.

"Elizabeth, please…I'm sorry about what I said before, ok?" Bela apologized, sort of. "I come bearing gifts."

"Such as?" Sam asked.

Bela smiled. "I've ID'd the ship," she announced, enjoying their startled expressions.

"You have?" Sam asked, surprised since he, Reid, and Penelope had only managed to narrow down the 150 ships to about fifty.

Bela grinned, pulled out a folder, and spread the contents on the table. "It's the _Espírito Santo_ a merchant sailing vessel, quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard a ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

"Which would explain the 37-year-cycle," Sam remarked, picking up some of the papers.

"Aren't _you_ a sharp tack?" Bela teased, sorting through the papers. "I have a photo of his somewhere…here."

Dean took the photo and he shared it with Liz and Sam. "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?"

"Looks like it," Liz agreed.

"You saw him?" Bela asked, surprised since she hadn't been able to contact the spirit despite her best efforts.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand."

"His right hand?" Bela suggested.

"How'd you know?" Liz asked.

"The sailor's body was cremated," Bela explained, "but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory."

"A hand of glory," Dean repeated. "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week," he joked and winced when Liz smacked the back of his head.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a _serious_ cult object and is _very_ powerful."

"Think _Harry Potter_ ," Liz suggested. "The dried up hand that Draco Malfoy was examining in the second book? And then used in the sixth book?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, stick a candle in it, and it'll light the way through the darkest places." He then smirked. "And it officially counts as human remains."

"But still," Sam pointed out, "none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims."

"I'll tell you why, _who cares_ ," Bela said, ignoring their dark looks. "Find the hand, burn it and _stop_ the bloody thing."

"I don't get it, _why_ are you telling us all of this?" Dean asked, suspiciously.

"Because I know _exactly_ where the hand is," Bela answered sweetly.

"Where?"

"At the Sea Pines Museum," Bela answered, "it's a carp bit of maritime history. But I need help."

"What kind of help?"

* * *

' _I_ so _don't like this plan,'_ Liz thought, going upstairs to the room she'd claimed, and paused when she saw that the door was open. _'I_ know _I left the door shut.'_ Pulling out her gun, she crept to the doorway, peered inside, and sighed before entering the room. "Bela, what're you doin' in here?" she asked, putting away her gun.

Bela was standing next to the closest and she was eying the contents with mild distaste. "I was just looking at your clothing selection for tonight, and I must say, I've seen worse."

"What I _wear_ is none of your business," Liz snapped, walking over to the closest, and shut the door. "Besides, it _still_ doesn't explain _why_ you're in here."

Bela sighed and walked over to the bed, where two black dress bags were resting. "I'm _here_ to get us both ready for tonight and I guessed right that you would need something appropriate to wear." And unzipped the first bag.

Unsure, Liz walked over and her eyes widened in shock: in the bag was a holster-type black dress with black ruffles, six-inch heels, and diamond jewelry. "You're _serious_?"

"Trust me, sweetie," Bela said, pulling out the dress, "you're gonna look _great_ and Mike won't know what _hit_ him."

* * *

A few hours later, Bela was in the living room, which was now lit with candles, and she was wearing a sleeveless black dress with ruffles, diamond jewelry, black heels, and had her hair done up.

"What is taking so long?" she called up the stairs. "Both Sam and Liz are already halfway there…with their _dates_."

 _`"So_ not _ok with this!"`_ Dean shouted back, refusing to come down.

"What are you, a woman?" Bela countered. "Come down already."

After a few seconds, Dean came down the stairs in a handsome black tux and he noted that Bela had a bemused expression on her face. "Alright, get it out," he growled. "I look ridiculous."

"Not exactly the word I'd use," Bela commented, smiling slightly.

This left Dean wrong-footed. "What?"

"You know," Bela remarked, "when this is over, we should _really_ have angry sex."

Dean stared at her for a moment and then folded his arms in a defensive manner. "Don't objectify me." He frowned, uneasy by the way that she was smiling. "Lets go." And he headed for the door, smiling to himself, and Bela followed with her purse.

* * *

A while later, they pulled up at the museum, and entered together to show their invites to the matire'd; inside, they saw the other guests, waiters, and a _lot_ of security guards positioned near the doors and stairwells.

Bela glanced at Dean and frowned when she saw that he was chewing something. "Are you chewing gum?" she asked scandalized and he nodded, pouting when she told him to get rid of it, and got an exasperated sigh when he swallowed his gum. " _Try_ to behave as if you've lived this life before, yeah?"

"Whatever," Dean muttered, hooked her arm, and escorted her into the main room, where most of the guests were gathered.

* * *

Mike and Liz were next to arrive and he headed straight into the main room, pausing to take in the view.

"Wow," Liz said, recalling the auction house back in New York and decided that museums had more life in them, even without the fancy parties.

"First time?" Mike asked, escorting her through the crowd to the bar, where Bela and Dean were waiting.

Liz flushed. "It's _that_ obvious?"

Mike chuckled. "To be honest, I _hate_ attendin' these things, and I _only_ do it for the sake of the family name," he admitted. "Give me a football game and a pack of beer _any day_." And grinned when Liz laughed, enabling them both to relax.

* * *

Back at the entrance, Gert and Sam had _finally_ arrived, and Sam was wishing he were somewhere else right now.

"This'll get their tongues wagging," Gert teased, having all but glued herself to Sam's side, "hey my Adonis."

Sam sighed, resisting the urge to fiddle with his tie and the collar of his shirt. "Just remember, we're on business."

Gert pouted. "Ohhhh, but sometimes business can be pleasure, hmm?"

"Right." Sam stifled a groan and then shivered when Gert ran her hand down his back. He quickly clasped her hand and faced her. "You know, could you excuse me for a moment? Thanks." And then hurried through the crowd, not liking the emotions he was sensing from her.

* * *

He reached the bar and glowered at his siblings and Bela, who were grinning at him. "Exactly _how long_ do you expect me to entertain my date?" he demanded.

"As long as it takes," Bela answered, sitting on a stool, relieved that Mike had stepped away to talk with someone and wasn't giving her cold looks about his sister's case.

"Look, there's security all over this place, alright," Dean said seriously, "this is an _uncrashable_ party without Gert and Mike's invitations, so…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "We can crash _anything_ , Dean."

"Yeah, I know," Dean agreed, grinning, "but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining."

"Plus you and Gert look _so cute_ together," Liz added.

"You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?" Sam growled.

"Ohhh, he's playing hard to get, that's cute," Dean remarked and then picked up two champagne glasses. "Come on," he added while Bela stood up, "I want all the details in the morning!" and he handed one of the glasses to Bela.

"Thank you," Bela said and they walked away together.

Sam scowled while Mike returned with two drinks. "Already hidin' from my aunt?" he asked, handing one of the drinks to Liz. "I don't blame you."

"Thanks," said Sam. "Is she _always_ like this?"

Mike shook his head. "Normally no, but after my uncle passed away last year, she's been havin' a late-life crisis."

"I believe it," Sam agreed. "Any advice?"

"Yeah, _don't_ let her take you to an private place," Mike suggested, hooking arms with Liz. "She did that last week and it almost caused a scandal."

Sam grimaced as they left and he faced Gert, who was offering two champagne glasses. "To us." He took one and drained it on the spot, much to the old lady's surprise and delight. _'I'm probably gonna need a_ whole _lot of this stuff to survive the night.'_

* * *

Meanwhile, Dean and Bela causally walked through the crowd with their drinks, noting the locations of the guards without drawing attention to themselves as they returned to the entrance hall and placed their glasses on a shelf.

"Private security?" Bela guessed eying the stairwell they needed to access to get upstairs.

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so," he said quietly, "look at the way they're standing, they're pros. Probably state troopers in mood lighting."

"Posted at every door, too," Bela commented and she knew that this could be a problem for them.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, thinking. "I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs."

Bela frowned, pondering the problem. "What do you suggest?"

"I'm thinking," Dean muttered, trying to focus.

"Don't strain yourself," Bela hissed, earning a sharp look in response. "Interesting how the legend is _so_ much more than the man."

Dean scowled at her. "You got any _bright_ ideas? 'Cause I'm _all_ ears."

Bela smiled. "Ok." She then clutched her stomach, groaned, and then fell to the floor, seemingly in a dead faint.

'Damn _her!'_ Acting quickly, Dean knelt down to make sure that she was all right. "Honey, honey are you alright?" he glanced at a waiter, who was hovering nearby with a tray of small fancy meat cakes. "Waiter, my wife has a severe shellfish allergy, there's no crab in that?"

The waiter shook his head. "No."

"They're excellent, by the way," Dean said, taking a cake and popping it in his mouth, just as one of the guards walked over to investigate.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"Ahhh, champagne…my wife, she's a lightweight when it comes to the sauce," Dean lied. "Is there somewhere I can lay her down 'til she gets her sea legs back?"

The guard looked around, unsure, and gestured. "Follow me."

"Right," Dean agreed, handing the guard Bela's purse. "Thank you, come on, you." And he grunted slightly, lifting Bela's dead weight, and followed the guard upstairs.

* * *

In a nice office, he laid her on the couch. "You think she's a pain in the ass now, try living with her," he joked as the guard returned the purse and then left. "Thank you very much."

Once he locked the door, he faced Bela, who was sitting up now, and tossed her the purse. "Maybe next time give me a little heads up with your plan?" he hissed, annoyed.

"I didn't want you thinking," Bela retorted. "You're not very good at that." She smirked at Dean's exasperated expression. "Oh, look at you searching for a witty rejoinder."

Dean scowled. "Screw you."

" _Very_ Oscar Wilde," Bela teased and then she turned serious as Dean turned to leave. "Room 235." And she sighed at his confused expression. "It's in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"'I'm sure that won't be a problem'," Dean mimicked sourly before leaving the room.

* * *

Back downstairs, Sam and Gert were slow dancing with several other couples, and at one point, Mike and Liz had stop by to say hi before moving off again.

' _I'm glad Liz is havin' a good time,'_ Sam thought wistfully; he wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was starting to lose hope in _ever_ freeing his sister from that deal and that Loki was probably right.

"Where's Alex and your friend?" Gert asked. "They're missing a _great_ party."

"Umm, ah, I'm _sure_ they are entertaining themselves," Sam lied while mentally keeping the guards at bay to give his brother more time.

Gert laughed. "Oooh, _naughty_ , then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves as well," she said suggestively.

Sam _so_ didn't like that idea, recalling Mike's advice and then he jumped when he felt her hand grabbed his behind. "Woah," he gasped, making her giggle, "you know Mrs. Case" and she pouted, "I'm sorry, _Ms._ Case…I don't wanna give you the wrong idea."

"Call me Gert," said Gert, cuddling up to him.

"Ok," Sam gulped, wishing that he were somewhere else right now.

Gert sighed happily. "You remind me of my late husband…he was shy too, 'til we got below deck." And her hand dropped a little-

"Whoa!" Sam yelped when he got goosed…again.

Gert smiled at his reaction. "Mmmm, you're just firm all over ooh, mmm."

* * *

Both Mike and Liz saw this and Liz fought down a laugh while debating whether to go rescue her brother or not.

"Your aunt just goosed him twice," Liz commented.

Mike sighed resignedly. "Yes, she did."

* * *

Upstairs, Dean found the room with the case that held a leathery hand and quickly went to work on the alarm system. Less than a minute later, he disarmed it, opened the case, and carefully removed the hand, wrapping it in a white cloth before slipping it inside his tux. _'Yahteez.'_

* * *

In the other room, Bela was at the desk, examining a small bottled ship when there was a knock on the door.

 _`"_ _Sir? Ma'am? Everything alright?"`_ the guard asked, knocking again.

Thinking fast, Bela reorganized her dress, messed with her hair, opened the door a bit, and giggled at the guard while clutching at her dress. "Hi."

"Feeling better, I see," the guard remarked.

Bela nodded and giggled. "Yes, much, thank you."

"So, if you're done with the room…" the guard began.

"Well…not exactly, could we have a few more minutes?" Bela requested.

"Uhhh, yes ma'am," the guard stammered and turned away as Bela giggled again and shut the door. Shaking his head, he started back down the hall and saw Dean heading toward him. _'What the-?'_

"Oh sorry," Dean said, thinking quickly. "Ssss'uh... nature called."

The guard raised his eyebrows, skeptically. "Uh huh."

Dean weakly smiled. "Thanks for looking after my wife."

"Oh, she's being looked after all right," the guard agreed, walking past with a knowing look on his face.

* * *

Eyebrows raised, Dean went back into the room, where Bela was fixing her dress and her hair, and faced him. "Any trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Bela responded. "You got the hand?"

Dean nodded, pulling the wrapped item out for a moment. "Yup."

"The hand, may I?" Bela requested.

Dean shook his head. "No." He hadn't forgotten the rabbit foot theft and put it back into his tux.

"It might be more inconspicuous in my purse," Bela suggested.

Dean smirked. "Nice try."

Bela pouted. "Just trying to be helpful."

"Well sweetheart," Dean said seriously, "I don't need your kind of help."

* * *

Back at the party, Mike and Liz were debating rescuing Sam from Gert when Dean and Bela came down the stairs.

"Having a good time?" Mike asked Dean, ignoring Bela completely. He told Liz that he didn't trust 'Alex' and that he was certain that there was a connection between his sister's death and the death of the Warren brothers.

When Liz had asked what he thought it could be, he told her that there was an legend about a ghost ship that appeared every thirty-seven years, and only to those who'd been responsible for killing a family member and getting away with it.

"Oh, we're havin' a _great_ time," Dean responded and nodded toward Gert and Sam. "I think it's time to break that up."

"Yeah, it's _way_ past my aunt's bedtime," Mike agreed.

* * *

"Man, this is one _long_ song," Sam moaned, wishing that the night was over. _'Dean, finish up_ please _!'_

"I hope it _never_ ends," Gert sighed deeply. "How's the investigation going?"

Before Sam could form a response, his siblings walked up with Bela and Mike.

"Well, having a nice time?" Bela asked.

"He's _delightful_ ," Gert gushed, clinging to Sam, whose face was going power ranger red. "He _wants_ me!"

Mike gently removed the glass from his aunt's hand. "I'm _sure_ he does, Aunt Gert, but it's high time you went to bed," he told his aunt, who pouted.

"And I'm sure that Gert could use a cold shower, first," Bela added, ignoring the look that Mike shot at her and then whispered to the Winchesters, "See you at the cemetery."

They watched them leave and then Dean glanced at Sam. "You stink like sex." And grunted when Liz elbowed him.

"Behave, Dean."

* * *

After Liz updated her brothers about what she'd learned from Mike about how it was rumored that the Warren brothers had killed their dad, and that his sister, Shelia, had her car flipped, leaving their cousin Brian dead, and her relatively unarmed.

They got into the car, where Sam removed his tie and Liz kicked off her heels in order to restore circulation to her feet.

"You got it right?" Sam asked. " _Tell me_ I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing."

"I got it…Mrs. Who?" Dean asked, not recognizing the name.

"Never mind, just let me see it," Sam requested as Liz leaned forward and Dean pulled out the wrapped item.

"Here we-" he began, unwrapping it and paused, surprised. "That bitch."

"What?" Sam and Liz asked.

Dean held up the small bottled ship, scowling. "I'm gonna kill her."

* * *

After seeing Gert and Mike off and changing her own clothes, Bela left a building that was near the harbor, and got into her car with a bag full of money.

' _Another transaction completed,'_ she thought smugly and she was about to start her car when the sounds of creaking wood reached her ears. Curious, she got out and her heart sank when she saw the ghost ship sailing nearby, surrounded by storm clouds. "Oh no."

Bela had seen the ship and she was in _serious_ trouble now.

* * *

A/N: Looks like Bela is doomed. Or is she? R&R everyone!


	3. Chapter 3: RELUCTANT HELP REQUEST

Supernatural: Red Sky at Morning

A/N: Here's the final chapter, folks! I do hope you've been enjoying my version of this adventure and please let me know what you think in review. Ja ne!

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE: RELUCTANT HELP REQUEST**

" _Make haste,_ _O God, to deliver me; make haste to help me, O Lord_ _."_

 _Psalms 70:1_

Back at the house, Sam and Liz were doing additional research based on what Liz had learned and Dean was standing next to the fireplace mantel, examining the ship in the bottle in the candle light.

"You know what, you're right," Dean grumbled, turning to face his siblings. "I'm not gonna kill her, I think _slow_ torture is the way to go."

"Dean, look," Sam said seriously while Liz rolled her eyes, "you gotta relax."

Dean snorted. "Relax, oh yeah, yeah, I'll _relax_." He then grunted in frustration. "I can't believe she got _another one_ over on us."

"I know," Liz agreed sourly. "First the rabbit's foot and _now_ the Hand of Glory. _Clearly_ she doesn't care if more people die."

Dean agreed, but Sam didn't look convinced, just then there was anxious knocking at the door; Dean went over to it and peered out, it was Bela…again.

 _`"Hello, could you open up_ _?"`_

Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded since he could sense her emotional turmoil. Signing he opened the door, letting Bela inside once again.

"Just let me explain," Bela said quickly. "I sold it, I've had a buyer lined up since I knew it existed."

"So the whole reason for us to go to the Charity Ball was…?" Sam asked.

"I needed a cover," Bela admitted, " and you three were convenient."

Liz groaned. "Look you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back."

Bela shook her head. "It's halfway across the ocean," she informed the bitterly, "I can't get it back in time."

"In time for what?" Dean asked.

"What's going on with you Bela?" Sam asked, confused by her emotional state. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I saw the ship," Bela confessed, sinking into a nearby chair, and both Liz and Sam stared at her horrified.

Dean, on the other hand, laughed. "Wow, you know, I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch," he said, walking around her and miming shooting her head. "But just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower-"

"What are you talking about?" Bela asked.

"We figured out the spirit's motive," Liz told her, handing over a picture of a tall, uniformed man with captain strips. "Thanks to a good friend, we _now_ know that this is the captain of our ship, the one who hung our ghost boy."

Bela looked at the picture and shrugged. "So?"

" _So_ they were brothers," Sam explained. "Very Cain and Able. So now our spirit he's goin' after a very specific kind of target, people who've spilled their own families' blood. See first there was Shelia, who killed her cousin in a car accident and then the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance, and now you."

Bela gasped, her eyes widened with shock. "My _God_."

"So who was it Bela?" Dean asked. "Hmmm who'd you kill, was it daddy? Little sis maybe?"

"It's none of your business," Bela snapped, doing her best to mask her fear and guilt.

"No, you're right," Liz agreed acidly. "Well have a nice life, you know whatever's left of it. Sam, Dean, let's go." And she started for the door.

Bela stood up, terrified. "You can't just leave me here!" she protested.

Dean glared at her, agreeing with his twin. "Watch us."

"Please," Bela pleaded, "I _need_ your help."

"Our help?" Liz repeated and snorted. "Now _how_ could a trio of _serial killers_ possibly help you?"

Bela winced. "Ok that was a bit harsh, I admit it," she conceded, "but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

"That's not why your gonna die," Sam pointed out. "Whatcha do, Bela?"

"You wouldn't understand," Bela said dejectedly, "no one did." She then pulled herself together and turned away. "Never mind, I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself." And she started toward the door.

Dean stared after her for a moment and then sighed. "You do realize you just sold the _one_ thing that could save your life."

Bela stopped, but didn't face them. "I'm aware."

"But," Sam said, getting an idea, "maybe not the _only_ thing."

Bela, Liz, and Dean all looked at him, confused. _What_ was he talking about?

* * *

Later that same night, they went to the local graveyard, where Sam was setting things up around an apparent sacrificial circle, which included pouring a small bottle of cow blood into a bowl and setting down a lock of Bela's hair on the lid of the stone crypt. Dean, Liz, and Bela were standing near a gravestone, waiting, and the twins both held guns loaded with salt rounds.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked skeptically.

"Almost _definitely_ not," said Dean, and they all looked up when thunder rolled overhead and the sky was quickly covered by angry-looking storm clouds. Showtime. "Sammy, you better start reading."

Sam nodded, opened their father's journal, and began reading, pulling up his hood as it started to rain. "Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam…"

"Stay close," Dean told Bela as he and Liz kept a lookout for the ghost. Just then, said spirit appeared behind them.

"Behind you!" Bela screamed.

The twins spun around, but the spirit tossed them both into a nearby crypt, dazing them, and causing their guns to go off. Bela then gasped when the spirit wrapped his sole hand around her throat and began choking her.

Recovering, Dean grabbed his gun and fired it at the spirit, which yelped as it was blasted away. However, Bela dropped to her knees, still choking as water came out of her mouth.

"Sammy read faster!" Liz shouted, having recovered, and she and Dean ran to help Bela. The ghost reappeared _a lot_ faster then expected, but this time it only watched.

By this point, Sam was shouting over the storm and was nearing the end of the spell when both the thunder and the rain suddenly stopped, and they became aware of there being someone _else_ in the graveyard.

The ghost turned away from Bela, who was still choking and was being held up by Dean and Liz, and faced a second water-soaked spirit, whose expression was a mixture of regret, guilt, love, and compassion. It was the brother.

 _`"You!"`_ the angry spirit snarled upon seeing his brother. _`"You_ _hanged me!"`_

 _`"I'm sorry_ _,"`_ his brother apologized, truly regretting his choices.

 _`"Your_ own _brother,"`_ the angry spirit growled.

 _`"I'm_ so _sorry,"`_ his brother repeated.

Instead of accepting the apology, the angry spirit roared and charged at his brother. Time seemed to slow down as the two spirits collided, merged for an hour-long moment, and then both exploded into a mixture of water and light.

They were forced to look away and when they looked back both spirits were gone, the storm was fading away, and Bela was no longer choking up water. It was over.

* * *

The morning sun show on a beautiful day and the Winchesters were busy packing up their stuff, and were getting ready to leave when the front door open and Bela _once_ again entered.

"You should learn to lock your doors," she advised, sounding cheerful despite almost dying earlier, "anyone could just barge in."

"Anyone just did," Sam countered and both Dean and Liz snickered while Bela rolled her eyes, setting her bag on the table.

"Have you come to say goodbye or thank you?" Dean asked.

"I've come to settle affairs actually," Bela said, opening her bag. "Giving the spirit what he really wanted. His own brother. Very clever, Sam," she added and surprised them by pulling out three bundles of fifty-dollar bills and tossed one to each of them. "So here. It's fifteen thousand that should cover it. I don't like being in anyone's debt," she added.

The Winchesters exchanged surprised looks and then looked back at the British woman. "So ponying up fifteen grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?"

"Like I said," Bela responded, closing up her bag and putting it on her shoulder, "I don't like to be in anyone's debt."

Dean chuckled, fingering the money. "You are _so_ damaged."

"Takes on to know one," Bela countered and walked away before they could react. "Goodbye lads, Elizabeth. Take care of the dress, it's yours now."

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Sam spoke. "She's got style, you gotta give her that."

"I suppose," Dean said grudgingly, sniffing the money.

"You know Dean, Liz," Sam said seriously, holding up the money in his hand, "we don't know where this money's been."

"No, but I know where it's going…" and Dean reached for Sam's share-

"Yeah, our _savings_ account," Liz cut in, taking the money from her siblings. "Lloyd set up that account for a reason, and I rather have it in a safe place then being used up in some gambling joint in Atlantic City."

Dean pouted and Sam laughed while Liz called up Lloyd to ask where she could find a credit union branch in Plymouth, MA.

* * *

After taking care of the money, the Winchesters packed up the car and headed out to continue the search for the demon that held Liz's contract, avoid Henriksen, and work more cases and save more lives.

* * *

A/N: I couldn't resist changing that last part, but I love imagining Dean's disappointed expression since it's classic. R&R everyone!


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